


Dune: Into the Scattering

by Drowning_Planet



Category: Dune - All Media Types, Dune - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drowning_Planet/pseuds/Drowning_Planet
Summary: After the fall of the God Emperor, the Bene Gesserit and the Fish Speakers set out to discover more about what is happening outside of the known universe. Set at the start of the Scattering, this story tries to look into a large unexplored part of the Dune mythos... namely the Scattering.





	1. Chapter 1

**_The human mind cannot abide chaos and so it battles with a universe that seems to thrive on it._ **

_Excerpt from: Through the lens of the divine; lessons on humanity._

_***_

The courtyard had been designed as a place to meet and discuss various matters of state. Experts had described it as inspirational and imaginative, as carefully cultivated organic shapes seamlessly flowed into stark straight lines. The trees had been genetically modified at the artist’s request and served no other purpose than to merge with the stone and metal in ways that nature never intended. Others had described it as a violent clash between nature and architecture and some visitors had expressed unease at the adversarial marriage between elements.

The architect and artist responsible for its creation had described the project as an honor, the pinnacle of his creative career. After the unveiling of the project, he was branded a heretic by radical factions within the government and driven off planet.

A small shrine now stood at its center, hastily commissioned by the government at the time. The shrine was simple with as its central aspect, a highly stylized depiction of the Fractured God, which demanded the attention of those who entered the courtyard and which convinced the masses that their world was ruled by pious souls who would never invite divine ruin to befall them. It had saved the courtyard and the building that surrounded it from destruction. Shortly after the collapse of the Imperium and the re-emergence of order on the planet, the Guild had chosen this place as its embassy.

The Reverend Mother smiled politely, while the two sisters on her left stared down at their feet in silence. All three were dressed in traditional black robes, which expertly concealed their shapes, leaving much to the imagination. As the ambassador noted to himself, those long flowing robes could easily conceal weapons, if these women were anything less than Bene Gesserit witches. The woman seemed unbothered by his late arrival, a tactic he had often employed in the past when dealing with representatives of different parties.

“We take no offense,” the Reverend Mother said, not waiting for his hollow apology. Her tone danced between warmth and disinterest. The ambassador struggled to discover which of the two dominated as she spoke. “These are trying times after all.”

“Much has changed,” the ambassador replied with a affirming nod.

“And we have worked hard to keep much the same. Certain traditions and truths should never be forgotten and certain taboos should forever be remembered and honoured,” the Reverend Mother was quick to add. “But let’s skip pleasantries, there is work to be done.”

“The Guild has received your request, but due to our limited supplies we are incapable of providing you with the means you requested.”

Her eyes stared into his. Her voice lost any ambiguity as it morphed into a cold and formal tone. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“The Guild struggles, as vital resources have grown infinitely more precious,” the ambassador answered dispassionately.

“We’ve had time to look at the situation the Guild and the Imperium are in…”

“There is no more Imperium,” the ambassador interrupted casually.

“No need to remind us,” the Reverend Mother bit back harshly. She looked at the ambassador, the blue within blue of her eyes served as a powerful reminder of her status within the sisterhood. Some of her Bene Gesserit sisters had chosen to mask the obvious sign of the Spice Melange that set them apart from the rest of humanity. There were worlds where the eyes of Ibad carried a death sentence these days. She was astutely aware of the message she sent out, she used the color of her eyes as a weapon, sharper than any blade. “There’s an insult in your unwillingness to cooperate with us.”

“How so?” the ambassador asked. In a more formal tone of voice he continued: “regardless of the players involved, the Guild deals. We do not deny service based on politics nor ideologies. Certain conditions have to be met in order for the Guild to be able to act. In your case, the proper conditions have not been met, and so we are unable to assist you. Your request has been denied for the time being. When matters will allow it, the Guild will re-evaluate your request.”

“Promises made on the illusion of neutrality,” the Reverend Mother nodded somberly as she turned to one of the sisters at her side. “It is the illusion of power.”

“My apologies, there are other matters I need to take care of,” the ambassador said, barely acknowledging the Reverend Mother. He motioned toward the exit, bowed politely. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The Reverend Mother looked at him as he gestured towards unseen assistants. The man’s tone of voice had been respectful throughout their short exchange, it carried enough authority to convince some, she was sure of that. The manner in which he moved and conducted himself showed his experience with visitors of political importance. As she took in the ambassador, she concluded that this was a man who, above all else, was primarily convinced of his own position.

“Ambassador,” she Reverend Mother whispered just loud enough for him to hear. “I would like for you to arrange a meeting with the Navigator in orbit around this planet.”

The ambassador stopped and turned to look at the woman. His hands delivered a new message to the hidden observers. “Excuse me?”

“I expect you to deliver a message,” she spoke slowly and deliberately. “Tell them that we know of the alliance between the Guild and the Tyrant.”

The ambassador straightened his back, signs of growing tension could be seen in the way he failed to control the minute movements of his facial expressions. The remark had shocked him, offended him even. She could read it plainly from the way his eyes darted across her face, how he strained to maintain control of his appearance. He was trying to read her, trying to discover if she believed her own statement if he could still gain the upper hand. She estimated that this man would fight if pressed further. His voice betrayed a forced politeness: “You have been misinformed. Blasphemous lies spread by enemies of the Guild, we would never have believed an institution such as yours to give credence to such rumors.”

“Be quiet,” the Reverend Mother directed her command in such a way that the thought of disobedience seemed impossible to the ambassador. He fell silent and could not help but dedicate his full attention to the words that passed the Reverend Mother’s lips. “Tell the Navigator to expect me in two days from now.”

The Reverend Mother tilted her head, turned to her assistants, as the two sisters at her side nodded in agreement. Moving in unison, they left the courtyard without saying another word, the only sound they produced was the rustling of their black cloaks.

 _The fault is mine_ , she thought. _I seemed to be under the impression that we were dealing with a diplomat, not an insignificant fool. I should repent for this sin. Forgive me sisters, I shall strive to win back what we lost today._

_***_


	2. Chapter 2

**_“I will be the devil that crawled from the depths of hell. The angel that descended from the heavens. I will be loved and feared and hated. I will be a hidden concept, a theory, an equation. Within the genetic memory of mankind I will survey its greatest triumphs and I will chronicle its most dire defeats. I will be an uncaring force of nature long after my passing. But the only truth to it all is that I don’t care what qualities I will embody. My only care is that there is a future in which such qualities can be defined and explored. A future in which humanity remains.”_ **

_Excerpt from the Stolen Journals._

***

The attendant didn’t speak as he led her through the halls of the ship. She committed to memory every corner they turned. A sterile labyrinth with a grotesque prize a the end of it. The attendant stopped at the end of a long and narrow hallway. There was no door visible, yet the Reverend Mother knew that there was a room beyond that pristine white wall ahead. A panel slid away, revealing a sober room.

The wall furthest from the entrance was of an intrusive black material, while all other walls were impossibly white. A single chair had been placed in the middle of the room, facing the dark wall. The attendant spoke with a deliberate voice, a strange accent lining his words. “Take a seat.”

She didn’t reply as she walked to the middle of the room and sat down. Her eyes now fixed on the blackness in front of her. The attendant walked to the wall and turned to face her. He produced a small device and attached it to his right ear. As she waited in silence, the darkness in front of her seemed to deepen.

“Reverend Mother Maud Dohor,” the attendant said.

“Yes?”

“You’ve startled our birds.”

“Your birds are easily startled,” she countered. “An impressive aviary.”

“Aviary, cage, what has been missing is a lack of predators. Our birds have grown accustomed to the golden cage we’ve constructed for them.”

“A silly old cat, too old to jump, too stubborn to listen, your precious birds seem under the impression that they no longer have wings to fly with and so their hysterical chattering begins. Silly little things.”

“A geriatric cat with claws and teeth, I don’t blame the birds for their screeching and whistling. They haven’t forgotten what even a senile cat could do once it manages to grab one.”

The Reverend Mother smiled. There was a sharpness here beyond the black wall, an intellect that seemed thrilled to play a game with her. She wondered what had been done to the attendant. Had the poor soul been genetically altered for this purpose, was this the result of good breeding, or a steady diet of foreign elements?

“Cats are cruel and uncaring animals,” she stated. “They’re manipulative and paradoxical. The old wisdom about herding cats never lost its edge.”

“Tell me Reverend Mother Dohor,” the attendant spoke. “What is it the Bene Gesserit needs of us?”

“Milk?” the Reverend Mother replied. She stared at the wall, her blue within blue eyes seemingly trying to break down the material in an attempt to see the Navigator that hid behind it.

“What makes you believe we will let you leave alive?”

“I don’t believe I will,” she answered truthfully. “I’m here because I made the right threat, I disturbed the right birds, the smallest ones, but the most vocal ones, the ones whose little sing song chirps infect the other birds. I’ve whispered in the ears of those who can only yell and scream. I’m still alive because I still have value to you.”

“Truth,” the attendant spoke slowly, the word seemed to roll strangely from his lips. “We never expected the sisterhood to ever play their cards so blatantly, we suspect there is a trap somewhere down the line. The future is not as muddled as some might wish it to be.”

“The old Imperium struggles to regain what is has lost. The chaos that engulfed the universe has burned away all we hold dear. Your stockpiles,” she corrected herself. “Our stockpiles are barely enough to hold on to ancient traditions. The Guild has managed to re-invent itself, while creating a more human face for the masses. We’ve seen your presence on planets grow, you’ve invested in failing systems and supported strategic factions throughout the known universe, establishing a clear and valuable presence and strengthening old alliances and bonds.”

“As the Bene Gesserit has invested much of its wealth and resources in maintaining order and balance on countless worlds, whispering their sweet and subtle suggestions in the ears of powerful men. You’ve kept old promises, worked hard to establish strongholds on key planets. You’ve suffered losses, worlds and systems that outright rejected your presence, or never managed to warm up to your lessons and warnings of old taboos.”

“Ix is a problem for us both it seems.”

“We are not in the habit of chasing mice.”

“You know that Ix is developing new machines that are bordering on breaking the universal laws. Soon they’ll find a way to replace the Guild as a reliable source of interstellar travel. Holtzman’s legacy will pass onto the designers on Ix.

“We doubt it, the Guild will always be a presence in the universe.”

The Reverend Mother rose to her feet. She straightened her black robes and started pacing the room. No longer fixated on the wall, she now turned her attention to the floor. “The Guild has played a very obvious game, expanding its power visibly all the while it’s been openly struggling with the diminishing supply of Melange. You’ve drastically cut interstellar travel in the Known Universe. Bringing economic ruin to those regions that specialized in certain resources and services.”

“Over-specialize and you breed in weakness, a lesson our respective schools learned millennia ago. Dependency has taught us all humility, at a price to steep for humanity to pay.”

“Humility is a lesson the Guild hasn’t learned,” Maud Dohor mused. She stopped pacing, faced the attendant and smiled. “You’ve survived the Famine Times due to your ability to adapt, but the ability to adapt has always been there. You’ve chosen to very openly display that ability. Present yourself as an old institution but still supple and flexible, eager and able to contribute to society.”

“Nature abhors a vacuum, where the Guild adapted to the Famine Times, the Bene Gesserit seized the opportunities left behind by the fall of the Imperium. The Atreides have always been predators, they attack, they feed, they leave. The son was no different in that regard from the father,” the attendant paused briefly. “With your black robes, you resemble above all else, a carrion crow. Feasting on the decaying flesh of an empire, pecking away at what the Atreides left behind.”

“You worked together with the God Emperor, because it allowed you to survive his unholy reign. He chipped away at your position, castrated a once great organization. The mystery of this alliance has long since been the topic of debate,” The Reverend Mother stepped closer to the attendant. “How many worlds are waiting for us beyond the borders of the Imperium? How many of those worlds did the God Emperor point out? How long exactly has the Guild worked to prepare the future envisioned by the devil himself?”

“Careful witch,” the attendant spoke. “Your words are bordering on blasphemy.”

“What price did he pay you? That’s the question we’re left with. We have plenty of thoughts on the matter of your price, but there isn’t enough raw information for even the most accomplished mentat to reach a definitive conclusion. Survival seemed the most obvious choice. Cooperate with a God to ensure your survival long past his reign. There’s a flaw there, because every model out there shows that the Guild will continue to decline as new technologies are introduced. Every model predicts the rise of Ix and various smaller competitors as Ix has never been interested in hoarding its technological breakthroughs on a long term trajectory.”

“There are many assumptions in your theory, it’s flawed.”

“It is indeed, but for all its flaws, it’s still the truth.” Maud Dohor lifted her left arm with her right she struck the attendant in the throat. The man gasped once, fell to the ground as he clawed at his neck struggling to breathe. The Reverend Mother stepped back out of reach of the dying man’s convulsions. “If you wanted me dead, I would already be dead. I don’t dare count the ways in which you could have robbed me of my life, yet I’m still standing.”

“You stand,” a new and crisp mechanical voice filled the room, the translation to Chakobsa seemed strange. Maud Dohor noted the patterns of speech, analyzed them in silence. She felt the distance between the Navigator and herself grow as it spoke through its inhuman machine. She suppressed the thought of conversing with a machine, a truly inhuman mind. The ancient taboo still lived within her as the flickering of an alien memory revealed a life of stunted ambitions and relinquished agency. The thought of true submission stirred feelings of revulsion within her. “Rooms prepared adequately. Your approval awaits.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_The systems beyond the borders of the old Imperium have traditionally been overlooked by historians. Their influence on the Imperium has been described as inconsequential. There is a good reason for this. When Paul Atreides unleashed his jihadis on the Imperium to cement his position as emperor, he caused massive amounts of refugees to flood the inhabited planets on the borders of the Imperium. Some of the already struggling systems were ill-equipped to deal with the influx of people and more often than not they collapsed under the strain. It should be noted that there are records that tell us about various systems that thrived as they managed to incorporate the wave of refugees successfully. During the reign of Leto Atreides II most of these thriving economies were subjugated and annexed. Draconian policies managed to prohibit further growth and crippled any potential these worlds had._ **

_Excerpt from: A historical analysis on the hidden expansionist nature of the Imperium._

***

High above the surface of the planet, a complex network of satellites regulated the weather below to ensure optimal results, come harvest-season. The days were marked by an abundance of sun and a mild temperature that stimulated the growth of crops, while the nights were cool and allowed for occasional showers. The network provided stability and predictability, it saw to it that the planet of Bijzer would thrive as a primarily agricultural world.

The shuttle that transported Gerard Antoni successfully docked with the largest off-planet research station. He carefully made his way to the entrance of the station, identified himself and tried to adjust to the artificial gravity. 

“Sir?” a woman dressed in a plain uniform said. “If you’d be so kind as to follow me to your quarters.”

“Our cargo…” Gerard answered.

“Is being taken care of,” the woman assured him. “Our records show that you’re from the planet Selzen.”

“Selzen Primus,” Gerard corrected her.

“Gravity is slightly higher here than on Selzen Primus, but we expect that you’ll be able to adjust before the first meeting takes place.”

“We were briefed.”

“You are the last to arrive, the other delegates arrived a couple of standard days ago,” the woman explained sympathetically.

“Any problems?” Gerard asked.

“None,” the woman smiled. “Your quarters.”

“My personal belongings?”

“Will be sent as soon as possible.”

“Thank you,” Gerard smiled.

The room was decorated warmly, glowglobes embedded in the walls lit up as he passed them on his way towards the small bathroom. The increased gravity caused his body to spend more energy on simple tasks than he expected. He sighed as he stared at his face in the mirror.

A knock on the door forced him to turn around and head back to the door. The journey, however small, caused him to breathe heavily as he opened the door. His luggage had been placed on the floor in front of his door.

“That’s quicker than expected,” he said out loud.

The act of collecting his luggage and placing is near the bed took enough out of Gerard for him to surrender to the fatigue and lie down. He felt how his body was uncomfortably pulled towards the floor of the station. Slowly he reached out to touch the handle of his luggage. His fingers darted across the smooth material to find a miniscule set of grooves. Instinctively he traced a line with his index finger, waited a couple of seconds, repeated the insignificant ritual and then traced the same line in reverse with his thumb. Gerard held his breath as his thumb traced the line a second time.

A whisper escaped the handle after a minute of absolute silence. Gerard exhaled softly and inhaled deeply, feeling his lungs struggle.

 _This is unexpected_ , he thought. _Are they expecting me to make a mistake?_

He rose from his bed, inspected his luggage and pulled out a small pouch. From the pouch he produced a set of syringes and flasks. The first needle sank into a vein in his neck. The fluid felt cold as it hit his blood. The second needle placed against his inner thigh and the third made contact with the veins in his upper arm.

Gerard forced himself to stand as he felt his strength returning. A careful mix of chemicals to help the body adjust to gravity and a stimulant to help with the fatigue. Gerard knew his body would be starved by the time he woke up tomorrow.

The desk held a standard design com-device, it came as no surprise that it bore the logo of Ix. Gerard hesitated using it, but reminded himself of his purpose, as he touched the surface with a single finger.

“Antoni reporting, we have arrived safely, our cargo is being processed.”

There was no immediate answer.

“We have no irregularities to report,” he added.

“We hope your stay will be a pleasant one,” a clear voice spoke from the device. “We have confirmed your identity, you have been cleared to move freely while on the station. Please follow instructions from our security agents when given.”

Gerard straightened his back and stretched out his arms. Moving remarkably energetic he stepped towards the door. His left hand casually touched a small mole on his right hand. Applying minimum pressure on the spot, the embedded device soundlessly released a chemical into his bloodstream. Closing the door behind him Gerard followed the signs to the conference area.

Twenty people turned to look at Gerard as he entered the conference area. Quickly scanning the room he registered a wide variety of styles, uniforms and logos. He could place most of them, but there were two he had never seen before. Did these foreigners come from beyond the borders of the Imperium?

“I see that we’re finally complete,” a robust man with a dark beard bellowed heartily. Gerard noted rank and heritage with a single glance at the man’s uniform. A scientist from the Liga Planetas, a collection of smaller planets that had sworn their allegiance to Ix.

“Apologies, we ran into some trouble back home,” Gerard explained.

“You’ve missed out on some informal talks, introductions really, nothing substantial,” the man seemed to beam as he spoke. “According to my sources you’re from Selzan, is that right?”

“Selzen,” Gerard corrected him. “Primus to be precise.”

“I think I visited the system once, but that was a lifetime ago,” the man said. “They refused our offer to set up a team to help develop and refine more effective alloys.”

“A lifetime ago,” Gerard repeated. This man had managed to alert him to the potential danger of the situation. “I believe that if you were to extend a hand today, we’d gladly shake it.”

The man stared blankly at Gerard, seemingly searching for the meaning of his words. Idiomatic phrases, even in the standard tongue, tended to confuse people. Gerard wondered if this was the future of the old Imperium now that travel was heavily regulated, a thousand worlds all speaking a different language, the common tongue lost due to the changing nature of language. After what seemed like an embarrassingly long couple of seconds the man seemed to understand the meaning of the phrase and laughed warmly.

“Where are my manners,” he said. “My name is Theodorus Vishan Deep.”

“Gerard Antoni.”

“Is it true that Selzen Primus has invested exorbitant amounts of resources in the pursuit of old technology?” Theodorus asked.

Taken aback by the directness of the question Gerard’s eyes scanned the room. An instinctive reaction he realized. A mistake.

“It’s true, though I wouldn’t describe our funding as exorbitant.”

“Resources,” Theodorus replied, his voice colder, despite his broad smile. “Rumour has it you’ve successfully recreated a ship and the technology that was used before the Guild robbed the universe of its ability to move freely.”

“A rumour started by an envious competitor. We would never dream of trapping human minds inside machines.”

“Blasphemy and heresy are our bread and butter here,” the man said, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Gerard. Gerard recognized the phrase as a warning as Theodorus continued: “The Tyrant might have destroyed much of the Imperium, forced humanity to crawl in the dirt, but I would surrender to his fanatical horde and beg for forgiveness if that rumor turned out to be true.”

“If that rumor were true, I’d beg the witches to cleanse my soul,” Gerard added. “What about the Liga? Last I heard you’ve developed more effective manners in which to integrate No-technology.”

“You give us too much credit Gerard,” Theodorus said, the dismissive tone in his voice rang hollow in Gerard’s ears.

Gerard looked around at the others present. Nobody seemed to take notice of his encounter with the affable man. Gerard touched the spot on his hand and released another dose of chemicals into his bloodstream. His mind raced at incredible speed.

The mistakes he had made were plenty, but he had not been to blame for the failure of his mission. They knew who he was, they had prepared for his arrival, someone had informed them.

“Excuse me Theodorus,” Gerard said as he slowly turned from the man. “Still adjusting to the gravity.”

“No,” Theodorus said. “You will not be excused, nor will you be allowed to leave.”

The others that were present in the room and had ignored him, now turned to face Gerard. The trap had been sprung, he realized.

“We’ll find your spy,” Gerard smiled cockily as he pressed the spot a third and final time. His awareness increased, his heart began to race. Fire ran through his veins, burning away the precious few reserves his body had built over the last couple of weeks.

The implant had done what it was designed to do. The burst of energy that was released allowed him to turn lightning-quick and run down the hallway. Theodorus and the others seemed to slow down with each heartbeat, they seemed genuinely surprised by the speed with which he moved.

He only had a limited amount of time before his body would break under the strain. He sprinted towards his room, opened the door with near-inhuman speed and collected his luggage, his fingers ran an intricate pattern across the lock, opening the case to reveal a cylindrical weapon and a smaller device.

The surge of energy that had helped him get to this point rapidly left his body and he could feel his knees buckle and give out. Clumsily he fell to the floor, his weapon aimed at the door, the smaller device in his other hand. His voice sounded like a distant whisper: “Trap, assistance.”

The door opened, Gerard pressed hard, the weapon released and within seconds the imposing body of Theodorus dropped to the ground. His once jovial face contorted in a gruesome mockery of life, hands clutching at his neck.

“Repeat. Trap. Assistance,” Gerard whispered exhausted as he lost consciousness. 


	4. Chapter 4

**_The Spacing Guild has always served the Navigators. Those enigmatic creatures have kept themselves hidden from sight for countless centuries. As they languish in their tanks, infused with the Spice Melange, they have grown more and more distant. The Navigators of old are far removed from the Navigators that now rule the Guild. We are concerned with the human element, should we not look into the Guild and judge them? We are the arbiters of humanity, what should our verdict be where the Guild is concerned?_ **

_From: Considering the status quo - author: unknown Bene Gesserit sister._

***

Gerard had travelled on many Guild highliners in his career, but never once had he been permitted to visit the wing that housed the Navigator. From their isolated prisons high above struggling planets, the Navigators were the only ones who truly knew how the intricate labyrinth that formed the Guild worked. Their sacrifice was rewarded with prescience, their dedication to the Guild as an entity of itself demanded slavish devotion and respect from those who served the Guild in other capacities. Gerard had been trained from an early age to fear the Navigators, he had been trained to worship them as demi-gods, he had been trained to never question the wisdom of the Navigator.

And now here he stood, impossibly close to one of them, with strict orders to obey.

The Reverend Mother studied his face intently, she kept hers completely expressionless in the process. She smelled of exotic flowers that almost masked the scent of cinnamon and, as she circled around him, her heavy robes made an ominous hissing sound that reminded him of a pit full of snakes. This woman was dangerous, she was trained in ways he could not even dare to imagine. She exuded authority and mystery with her very being.

He had expected her to be older, though he had heard that the Bene Gesserit had ways to mask their true age through arcane rituals and some rumors said they managed to turn back the hands of time by sheer force of will. He was certain that their use of the Spice Melange helped to reach that goal, and here was one witch seemingly saturated with the priceless commodity.

“You’ve been altered by surgeons?” she asked, though Gerard doubted the witch didn’t already know the answer to her own question.

“I have, milady.”

“Hardly a drop of noble blood in these veins,” she smirked. “But your flattery is still appreciated. To what extent have you been altered?”

“I’ve been implanted with compounds that enhance basic physical functions. Releasing them into the bloodstream allows for an increase in physical strength and reflexes, they also allow me to process visual stimuli faster.”

“In short, you’re stronger and faster, but not smarter,” she summarized. “Interesting. So, at the end of the day you’re still decidedly human and nothing about you could ever truly mark you as a perversion. What price do you have to pay for activating the implants?”

Her blue within blue eyes had an inquisitive quality to them. _How much wealth does this woman own, to flaunt it so freely?_

“The body depletes itself, if pushed too far and too hard there is the possibility of cardiac arrest, damage to the nervous system and damage to the joints. The body burns energy at an increased speed when active. Long term effects include organ failure.”

“Is your blood tainted by the Atreides gene?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Gerard answered truthfully.

“Does it contain traces of Idaho?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“It wouldn’t matter if it did,” she concluded. “You’ve been given instructions to speak truthfully.”

Gerard nodded. He had been told to regard the Reverend Mother as a threat. She was capable of seeing through lies as easily as she could see through glass. To trick her was to insult her, and an insult to her would be an insult to the Bene Gesserit. The Guild did not care to antagonize the sisterhood.

“I can see the struggle within you, you wish to test the limits of what is acceptable,” she seemed to sing.

“You are mistaken milady, I do not.”

“That was almost insultingly simple,” she laughed. “I approve of this one,” the Reverend Mother snapped her fingers and turned her back to him. “We have no objections to this addition.”

A low hum ran from one end of the room to the other. The ominous sound swelled and slowly died away somewhere deep within the walls. Gerard stood perfectly still and waited for a reply, keeping an eye on the witch.

Reverend Mother Maud Dohor stared at the wall in front of them.

The white wall shifted to grey, soundlessly. With each passing moment the material darkened, till the wall was completely darkened, an imposing near-suffocating blackness. The material of which the wall was constructed resembled plaz-steel, though Gerard knew that the wall in front of him was composed of a material developed by Guild scientists, specifically for housing the Navigators. A deceptive design, the wall was the only visible part of a separate unit hidden deep within the ship. That unit functioned independently from other systems, it was capable of withstanding massive amounts of damage.

Known as Tanks, they were meant to protect the Navigator in case of catastrophic systematical failure, or keep them safe from a myriad of attacks. The ship around which the Tank was built, was worth barely a fraction of the costs that went into the Tank and its invaluable cargo.

The blackness seemed to dissolve, revealing what lurked inside the Tank. A programmed compulsion forced Gerard to turn away, despite his curiosity tempting him to surrender and look at the being from which his life derived its legitimacy.

He could hear the Reverend Mother’s voice as she addressed the Navigator, “I can see him struggle, he wishes to look. Your imprint holds true, wonderful craftsmanship.”

“He joins you,” the translated voice of the Navigator rang.

“We approve of your spy.”

 _She thinks I am a spy,_ Gerard thought at hearing her words. _Her witchcraft is far from absolute it seems. There are matters that even she doesn’t know._

“A collection of Fish Speakers will join you,” the Navigator spoke. “Five total, they are accompanied by a variety of clerics, assistants and scholars.”

“We figured they would send more,” the Reverend Mother sighed. “Leto’s horde is still convinced that there are souls that need saving out there. To bring divine order to the forsaken pagans, while praying for hidden truths of their Lord to be revealed.”

“We see no difference,” the mechanical voice replied. Dispassionate in tone, but the message was clear in its meaning. “Agent,” the Navigator addressed Gerard with the same dispassionate mechanical voice. “Accompany the Bene Gesserit sisters. Assist the Reverend Mother. Report to us.”

Gerard struggled, but didn’t manage to cast his eyes on the Navigator. No sound escaped his throat and his lips felt feverishly dry as his mind formed words of acknowledgement that his mouth couldn’t voice. Panic rushed his troubled mind. To what degree would the Navigator regard his silence as a lack of respect, did he commit some grave and mortal sin by not answering his superior? His conditioning prevented him from speaking directly to the Navigator, and so it also caused his mind to struggle and collapse under the weight of protocol and near-inbred servitude and submission. Gerard’s every fiber strained and demanded to show the appropriate amount of deference, yet he could not bring himself to utter it out loud. The panic became a soft swelling pain, the pain grew and stabbed at his eyes.

“At ease,” the Navigator’s inhuman voice burned its way into his skull. Gerard felt how the pain washed away, how the panic subsided, though his eyes were still cast down and he found that his voice was still lost to him.

“Effective,” the Reverend Mother spoke up. “If only Suk conditioning had been so effective.”

Gerard’s mind allowed for a flash of indignation to take hold. Did the witch compare him to the historical traitor Yueh? The one whose unbreakable bond was broken by a personified evil. Wellington Yueh, who should have surrendered to madness and ruined himself the moment he knew he was compromised. The devil’s own doctor had continued to live and act and so plunged the universe into chaos by betraying his master’s House. Her insult sparked up and ebbed away, but he could feel how the comment left a little scar behind. He didn’t resent the Reverend Mother for her comment, the scar had not been an impression of the insult. She had revealed to him that he struggled with the revelation that his conditioning override his sense of self. She had successfully planted the tiniest seeds in his mind, and he knew it. He wondered what that seed could unleash if it took root and blossomed. _Had she planned this? Was this the magic she wielded?_

“Your destination is set. We have plotted out a course. Here is a warning,” the Navigator said.

“A warning is a blessing is a curse,” the Reverend Mother recited to herself.

“You seek answers, but might not be able to share them.”

“The Bene Gesserit are well aware of that fact. I am one of many. Your warning is a welcome reminder.”

 _She knows she won’t return. What use could it possibly be for her to die out there beyond the borders of her universe_? Gerard thought. This nihilistic stroke to their expedition complicated his mission, he argued with himself. He was a spy in the eyes of the witch and her entourage, the Fish Speakers would view him in a similar manner. There is no need to spy on the damned.

Gerard felt the urge to ask questions, to discover what had been kept from him. What alliance had been formed here? The Bene Gesserit working with the Fish Speakers seemed blasphemous in and of itself, but why had the Guild indulged these two factions? The Guild had ordained this expedition to fail, his involvement was proof of that intention. So why would the Guild transport these strangers, these outsiders, to the edge of Unknown Space? Only for them to die out there. Was the act of indulging them a necessity, had the Guild been forced to comply? Gerard tried to reason through the information available to him, failed as he discarded the answers and theories as soon as he formed them. He had need of a mentat, yet none were present.

“The warning,” the Navigator spoke. “Share it with your sisters.”

“They are already aware, as are our experts. We all accept the inevitable.”

“When all are aboard we shall depart,” the Navigator concluded.

The room filled with the same low sound that had caused the wall to change earlier. Gerard stood motionless, waiting for someone or something to break the spell that he was under. He struggled to look up, but couldn’t.

“He’s gone,” the Reverend Mother said, releasing Gerard. “I would very much learn the secret behind that trick.”


End file.
